Quack
by Infusiion
Summary: Cuddy forces them all to seek psychological help, with disastrous results! Well, maybe not disastrous, but certainly hilarious.
1. Help Is Needed

**Don't ask questions! I know realistically this wouldn't be happening, but screw reality! This is just one of those fun, silly fics (see "Boredom Battle" if you would like an example, haha) that don't have to make sense.It's three-thirty in the morning and I couldn't get this idea out of my head. You know I actually got up out of bed to type it up? And I know, it's only short. And this A/N probably isn't making much sense, so I'm going to post this and go to bed.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own House, or Cuddy, or Wilson, Or Cameron, or Chase, or Foreman. I do own Dr Dumbbell and the peashooter.**

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Cuddy took the position behind her office desk and peered at the people who were congregated there.

House took pride-of-place on one couch, with his legs occupying any free space so no one else could join him in his extreme comfort. Cameron was positioned on the couch opposite him so she could sneak looks at him when she thought he wasn't looking. Foreman and Chase were also squashed onto that couch; with Chase 'accidentally' brushing against Cameron so often Cuddy was amazed the woman wasn't suffering carpet burn. Foreman was too squashed to do anything, and Wilson was stuck with a boring old seat by her desk and was clearly pissed off about it.

She decided to cut to the chase. And fast, as House was becoming bored.

"We need help." She blurted. "Psychological help."

Foreman looked smug, Wilson was still pissed, Chase looked frightened, Cameron blinked and House was constructing a peashooter from an old biro and a tissue.

"I've booked us all in for a session with a Doctor… Dumbbell" Cuddy continued, consulting a business card. House giggled evilly through a mouth full of soggy tissue.

"Usually psychological help is optional," She said, expertly dodging the wad of wet tissue that zoomed her way, "but this time you will have no choice." She paused for a moment, waiting for some kind of response from her employees.

Foreman nodded emphatically from his hiding place behind Chase, who was pulling soggy tissue from his hair. Cameron was too busy trying to fish it out of her breasts to bother replying, and Wilson remained focused on the wall behind Cuddy as his back was peppered with balls of sodden tissue.

"And I don't doubt for a second you know the reason for our need for psychological help." Cuddy added through clenched teeth, staring pointedly at House. House pretended not to hear; instead he carefully aimed his peashooter once more at the small opening in the front of Cameron's blouse. Cuddy could have sworn she saw Cameron discretely widen the opening while staring innocently out the window.

"We start on Monday." The Dean of Medicine sighed.

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**Please review! I can't make any promises concerning the next chapter. But I can say there will be a chapter for each doctor's session with the psychologist. I think Foreman will go first. No promises, though. Review, please! It's fuel to my creative flame.**


	2. Impending Doom

**Here's the next chapter. I've written the next one, so it's just a matter of posting it. WHEN I post it will be up to you. In other words, review!**

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Monday popped up unexpectedly for the doctors. Mainly because they hadn't thought Cuddy was serious. But when she ushered them all over to Dr Dumbbell's clinic they began to protest.

"We don't need-"

"Dr Cuddy, don't you think-"

"Well, I must say-"

"Can we just go in, pleeease?"

"Aw, come on mom!"

"Shut up all of you and just get inside!" Cuddy growled at them before stepping back to open the door. The little silver bell that was sticky taped to the door jingled gaily. Surprisingly, that didn't convince them to enter. It was Cuddy's murderous expression that did the trick. One by one the Ducklings and Wilson entered with their tails between their legs. House, however, remained outside. All those years of putting up with Cuddy made him immune to her threats.

"Lovely day," he said brightly. Cuddy simply shrugged, which surprised House.

"Fine, suit yourself." She said indifferently. "I just thought you might enjoy _talking_ with this doctor, that's all." She said, putting particular emphasis on 'talking'. House caught on straight away. For a few seconds he stood still, a battle raging in his chest. Give in, or don't give in? Eventually he chose to give in, convincing himself he would have a good time at the expense of this Dumbbell man.

As he hobbled through the dor he turned back to Cuddy. "He's not even a _real_ doctor, anyway." He said with his nose in the air.

Cuddy rolled her eyes and followed him inside.

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All six doctors entered the waiting room. House made a beeline for the cushy loveseat at the back of the room, leaving the others to choose one of the many hard plastic chairs around the edges.

But as House was making his way over to the loveseat he saw a long brown ponytail whip past him, in the direction of _his_ couch.

"Oh no you don't" he said menacingly, taking a swing at Cameron with his cane. With a dull 'clunk' it made contact with her hipbone.

With a yelp Cameron fell into a nearby chair, holding her hip while shooting murderous looks at her boss, who glided over to the loveseat with a frustratingly smug expression on his face.

Foreman and Chase found chairs on one wall, with the latter sitting beside the immunologist who was now buried in a woman's magazine. Cuddy sat on the wall opposite them, and Wilson sat in a corner.

For ten painful minutes they waited for Dr Dumbbell in silence. Just as House began searching his coat for his peashooter, a stocky, balding man with wispy grey hair entered the waiting room. There was a collective sigh of relief as House abandoned his search.

"Good morning. I'm Dr Dumbbell." The man greeted them. "Am I correct in assuming you're the doctors from Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital?" There was a murmur of assent around the otherwise empty room. "No," House yelled rudely.

Dr Dumbbell peered at him for a moment before glancing around at the others. He nodded.

"Well, I would like to assess you as a group before commencing the individual sessions. Just to see how you interact together. From what Dr Cuddy has told me that would be a VERY good idea." He murmured, consulting the file in his hands. Five pairs of eyes glared at Cuddy, who smiled sheepishly.

"Let's go, then," Dumbbell said, indicating the door from which he emerged earlier. Slowly the doctors filed out. Cuddy approached Dr Dumbbell. "About the bill-" She began. House let out a wolf whistle from behind her, prompting sniggers from Chase.

"That's ok, just speak to my secretary afterwards," Dr Dumbbell said, pointing to the timid looking lady at a desk by the front door. Cuddy glared at House as they all entered the psychologist's office.

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_wanna see what happens in the group session? then review! ... please._


	3. Death of the Peashooter

**I suppose 5 reviews is enough for me to post this chapter! I'm just too eager to post it, I would have done it even if I got no reviews.Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to review so far!. Hope you like it!**

**PS. I'll probably be making references to every possible Cameron pairing (although most are one-sided), mainly because House and Chase have twisted minds. This will make sense once you read.**

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The office was reasonably large, with bookshelves and various tables and shelves lining the walls and a big mahogany desk in the centre. Like Cuddy's office there were two couches and armchairs arranged in a sort of semicircle in front of the desk. Sunlight filtered in through the windows, making the room comfortably bright and inviting. House peered around in disgust as he entered.

"Please, take a seat." Dr Dumbbell told them.

Determined not to let House get the better of them, everyone took advantage of his disability and rushed forward ahead of him. Cameron and Wilson sat on one couch and Foreman and Chase on the other, leaving House and Cuddy the armchairs. Cuddy took the seat closest to Cameron, which left House with the seat next to Chase. Fully aware they were all waiting for him, House deliberately took his time sitting down. He made a show of plumping the cushions and rearranging them, before resting his cane neatly against the chair. He was about to fluff his hair when Dr Dumbbell cleared his throat. Cameron smirked at her boss, making Chase squirm in indignation.

"Shall we get started then?" Cuddy, Wilson and Foreman nodded. House was picking lint off his clothes, Cameron was pretending not to watch him, and Chase was puffing out his chest in an animalistic bid for her attention.

"Okay, so let's start with why you're here. Does anyone know?" Dr Dumbbell asked.

Foreman raised his hand desperately, gazing at the psychologist.

"Um, yes?" Dr Dumbbell pointed to him.

"We're in need of psychological help." Foreman replied eagerly.

"That may be true, but _why_ do you think you're in need of psychological help?"

No one answered. The silent battle for Cameron's attention continued, however, with Chase juggling paperclips and House stroking his cane. Goodness knows why, but Cameron found the latter highly amusing.

"We're overworked, highly stressed, in need of an outlet for our emotions and quite possibly scarred for life," Wilson said darkly. "And it's because of _him_!" he pointed at House, who dropped his cane guiltily.

"Nice of you to join us, Jimmy!" House said enthusiastically, picking up his cane once more. Wilson grumbled and sank back into the couch. Cameron looked at him pityingly, and patted his knee in support. House spluttered indignantly and Chase looked close to tears.

Dr Dumbbell went on as if nothing happened. "That's very good…James, is it?" Wilson nodded glumly. Cameron made sympathetic noises. House fumbled around frantically for his peashooter.

"So you feel all these problems stem from one man? Do you all feel the same way?" Dr Dumbbell asked the group.

Wilson let out a mournful sigh while staring at his knees. Cameron began stroking his hair soothingly. House, who had just found his peashooter, snapped it. Chase was trying to suffocate himself with a pillow. Cuddy and Foreman nodded.

"Dr House, how do you feel about all this?" The psychologist asked. House shrugged – he was too busy tying the shards of peashooter together to form a spear to throw at Wilson. Chase was punching himself in the hope that Cameron would feel sorry for him too. Foreman offered to help.

Cuddy was massaging her temples and making odd strangled noises in her throat, somewhere between a moan and a screech. Cameron left Wilson and turned in her seat towards Cuddy. She leaned over and began patting the Dean of Medicine's back while saying sympathetic things to her.

Suddenly the couch opposite them fell silent. House and Chase were frozen in their seats, watching Cameron and Cuddy with bulging eyes. Wilson, Foreman and Dr Dumbbell looked around to see what was going on, and raised their eyebrows in approval.

Cameron noticed everyone watching. "What?" she asked blankly.

Dr Dumbbell sighed. He could tell this was going nowhere. "Okay, I think that's all we need for now. Dr Foreman, if you'll please stay behind. I want to start the individual sessions now, and you can go first."

Slowly they all (except Foreman) got up to leave. Cuddy and Cameron made their way out first, with Cameron holding her boss' shoulders and murmuring reassuring things to her. House and Chase were hot on their heels, positively brimming with excitement. Wilson sighed and dragged his feet out the door.

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_Too short for your liking? Then tell me in a review! I don't know how long the individual sessions will be. I suppose it depends on the person. Hope to hear from you!_


	4. Foreman

**Whoa. Finally, I begin the individual sessions! You have no idea how hard it was to write Foreman's session. I hope you like what I came up with. PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE if you have any ideas for Wilson's session, let me know in a review or PM.**

**DISCLAIMER: _Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah, hallelujah, halle-lujah_! ...Not mine, people.**

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"So, Eric, would you like to start by telling me once again why you're here?" Dr Dumbbell said kindly as he shut the door after Wilson and sat down opposite the neurologist.

"Well, technically, we're all here because my boss forced us."

"Dr House?"

Foreman twitched at the name. "No, Dr Cuddy. She's the administrator."

"Well, obviously Dr Cuddy wouldn't have 'forced' you to seek help unless she thought you actually needed it."

Foreman shrugged. "That seems like a reasonable suggestion."

"Do you think you need psychological help?"

"I think my boss needs some psychological help."

"You said before you all needed it."

"I _meant_ him."

"You're obviously harbouring some vengeful thoughts for Dr House. How well do the two of you get along?"

"We don't."

"Why not?"

"We have differing opinions, for one."

"On what?"

"All sorts of things."

"Such as…?"

"Ethics, protocol, what ties I wear to work…" Foreman clenched his fist.

Dr Dumbbell nodded sympathetically. "So you two argue a lot?"

"No. I try to… address the issues but I can't seem to get through to him."

"He doesn't listen?"

"If he does he doesn't care. He doesn't value my opinions."

"Do you tell him this?"

"I've tried."

"Do you think you could try harder? Make more of an effort?"

"I thought I'd made myself clear, but I suppose there's always room for improvement."

Dr Dumbbell scribbled some notes down in his clipboard. "Is there anything you'd like to get off your chest?"

Foreman sat staring at the psychologist for a few seconds, before nodding so emphatically it took his eyes a few moments to straighten out once he'd stopped.

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Outside the waiting room was silent. Wilson was brooding in his corner, Chase had fallen asleep with his head against the wall and was drooling violently, Cameron was daydreaming about House (made obvious by her intense staring match with the side of his head) and House was twiddling his thumbs, having (fortunately) taken no notice of Cameron's obvious interest in him. Across from them Cuddy was wringing her hands, growing more and more nervous by the minute. She knew it was only a matter of time before House grew bored enough to take action.

'Uh oh' she thought to herself as she saw him reach into his pockets for his Vicodin. 'Refill. He's getting geared up for something.' She glanced over at the secretary, who was prodding stupidly at her keyboard. 'Poor thing.' Cuddy thought with a sigh. 'She's got no idea what's in store for this simple little waiting room.'

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"Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to pretend to be House, while you sit there and get some things off your chest. You know, tell me what's bothering you, what you'd like to do about it, and so on." Dr Dumbbell was saying back in his office.

Foreman nodded. "Okay."

Dr Dumbbell raised his eyebrows expectantly at Foreman. "Well? What don't you like about me?"

Foreman shifted uneasily in his seat. "I suppose you're disrespectful towards me. I don't like the way you disregard my opinions." He said hesitantly.

"How am I disrespectful towards you?"

Foreman shook his head. "Look, this is really difficult. How am I supposed to vent when it's you sitting there?"

Dr Dumbbell cocked his head. "Use your imagination. Concentrate on Dr House, not me."

Foreman raised an eyebrow sceptically. He stared hard at Dr Dumbbell for a couple of minutes before throwing his hands up in defeat. "I can't do it."

Dr Dumbbell was about to protest when a mischievous shout came from the waiting room.

"Hey, Dr Cuddy!" It was House.

Something snapped in Foreman. One second he was sitting motionless in his chair, the next he was launching himself at Dr Dumbbell. He grabbed the nearest cushion and tried to throttle the startled psychologist with it, shouting viciously:

_"How dare you, you son of a bitch! Not so smug now, are you? This'll teach you to mess with Eric Gaylord Foreman!"_

Dr Dumbbell, who had his arms over his head for protection, managed to fight Foreman off by tugging at his ears.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow! Stop it!" Foreman whined, holding his earlobes. He sat back on the couch, sulking.

"Well… that was certainly an experience. Do you feel any better?" Dr Dumbbell asked gently, while wiping away the flecks of spit Foreman had rained on him during the outburst. Foreman shook his head like a stubborn child. "No!"

"Well, how about you try talking this time?"

Foreman scowled. "Whatever."

"Alright, I'll say something first." Dr Dumbbell cleared his throat. "Say, Er- Foreman, what is that tie you are wearing? Blimey, it looks like road kill has been steamrolled and tied around your neck in a rather messy half-Windsor knot! Ha, ha, ha." He was obviously trying to sound like House.

Foreman blinked boredly. "Was that supposed to help?"

Dr Dumbbell straightened his shoulders. "Well, I have been commented on my acting ability-"

Just then "Whoa, look at it go!" echoed once more from the waiting room. Again, Foreman snapped. He jumped up, but this time he didn't launch himself at Dr Dumbbell, instead he ran back and forth across the office, swinging his arms like a gorilla.

"Why do you hate me? Don't answer that, I don't care! I'm here to work not make friends, waaaah!" He threw his hands over his eyes, still running around the office.

"Eric, please, sit-" Dr Dumbbell started, before Foreman interrupted him, pointing an accusatory finger at the psychologist.

"You just hate me 'cause I'm black!" And with that, he ran from the office.

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Back in the waiting room, House was fiddling noisily with his Vicodin bottle. Then, as if a light bulb sprang to life over his head, he popped it open and took a pill out. He sat it on his hand, preparing to flick it with the other.

"Hey, Dr Cuddy!" He called mischievously, trying to get her attention. But before she could turn around, a commotion in Dr Dumbbell's office caught everyone's attention. They all fell silent, listening intently.

"_How dare you, you son of a bitch! Not so smug now, are you? This'll teach you to mess with Eric Gaylord Foreman_!"

At the mention of Foreman's middle name, everyone in the waiting room screwed up their faces and stared at various spots on the ceiling, desperately trying not to laugh. Chase, who was woken from his sleep by the commotion, giggled stupidly.

"Gaylord! Ha ha!" That set them into fits of silent giggles. Cameron, in particular, was shaking violently in her chair, which had House watch her with interest. Cuddy had tears streaming down her face from all the silent laughing. Even Wilson's face twitched a bit. But that might have been because a fly zoomed up his nose.

When they were done laughing, and Cameron had composed herself, the room was silent once more. House decided this was the perfect opportunity to resume his little game. He positioned the Vicodin on his open palm once more, and flicked it in Cuddy's direction with the other. It soared gracefully through the air.

"Whoa, look at it go!" House marvelled, as the little white pill landed in Cuddy's hair. The Dean of Medicine scowled and pulled it out, throwing it on the floor. On the other side of the room, Cameron was busy exposing the top of her cleavage once more, puffing out her chest as she did so.

Foreman was screaming again, but they took no notice. House was busy aiming the next Vicodin at Chase. The intensivist had fallen asleep once more with his mouth wide open, and House saw this as a challenge. He positioned his hand carefully, and flicked it. The little white pill soared through the air once more, landing with a graceful 'plop' in Chase's mouth. The blonde doctor immediately woke up, coughing and hacking violently, until he swallowed the pill by accident. He scowled evilly at House (who smirked, for he knew what was coming) for a few seconds, before his face fell slack. The Vicodin was obviously taking effect, making him fall back in his chair, grinning at nothing in particular. Every now and then he chuckled stupidly. Beside him, Cameron was yawning every three seconds, opening her mouth wider than any normal person should be able to.

Just as House was fishing around for another Vicodin, a very distraught Foreman (three very distraught Foremans, from Chase's point of view) came running from Dr Dumbbell's office. He threw himself at a chair with his arms folded, staring sulkily at the floor. Chase stared at him in wonder.

Dr Dumbbell popped his head out of his office, determined not to look at Foreman.

"Er… Dr Wilson?" He called.

Wilson got up and slouched over to the office, while House cripple-leapt from his chair and scurried over to retrieve the Vicodin he'd flicked at Cuddy earlier.


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